


the only soul inside that makes me shake

by poisontaster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hand Jobs, Jealousy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-02-04
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:30:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the only soul inside that makes me shake

It's not that Sam doesn't like Dean's dick, doesn't _love_ Dean's dick.

No. He loves Dean's dick. God, he loves Dean's dick. But sometimes—and especially lately—he finds himself dreaming of shelves of dildoes. Big ones, articulated and specially warmed, small ones, smooth and slim, featureless and bearing only a superficial resemblance to a cock at all. Dildoes in different colors, different textures, dildoes that curve right or left depending on how you like it, dildoes with moving bits that manage to hit that sweet spot between your balls and ass until you're screaming and coming so hard you almost want to lose consciousness because it's so fucking intense.

Dildoes, dildoes, dildoes....

And then, one day, he thinks: _What if it's Dean, there on the other end of the dildo? Easing it in, fucking me with it? That concentrating look on his face, the tip of his tongue between his teeth?_

It's fortunate Sam's in the shower already when the thought occurs, because just the _idea_ of it's pretty much enough to make him come, and all at once...Sam has a _plan._

***

"Yo, Sam-may!" After catching Sammy watching lesbian porn that one time, Dean's expectations have changed, he's got to admit. But sometimes, he thinks as he opens the motel room door, Sam sets the bar to a whole new level.

"Took you long enough," Sam complains, the fingertip of one hand tracing the outline of his balls. "You gonna stand there all day or you gonna come in and let me show you what _I_ did today?"

Dean can't quite get his legs to move.

It's not just the sight of Sam sprawled out naked over their bed, though Dean has to admit that's worth at least a few minutes admiration, at the least. But Dean's seen Sam's twig and berries in enough states of undress that though he might like—shit, _love_ —the view, it doesn't rob him of all ability to form coherent thought.

Sam spread out on their bed, naked, hard-cocked and sweat-glowed with an array of dildos lined up on a towel next to him, on the other hand threatens to unhinge some really necessary part of Dean's brain leaving him lobotomized and drooling.

"Dean," Sam says, his voice shaking a little with amusement. "You wanna close the door before everyone in the free world gets a good look at your brother and his…toys?"

Dean slams the door so hard that the walls shake. "If you got started without me, you little cocktease…"

"Not so little," Sam interrupts, lifting his dark, taut cock from his belly—Dean groans under his breath at the sight of the clear, sticky strings of precome that connect Sam's cock to his navel—and stroking himself slowly. Dean can only guess at the expression on Sam's face—smug, happy, dark eyed with want—because he can't look away from those long, grasping fingers, the thick, heavy shaft between them. "And I only took care of the warm up."

Even more slowly than his stroke, Sam pulls his legs up and apart. Between the firm cheeks of his ass, Dean sees his brother's opening, pink and slightly pouting, the shine of lube only slightly brighter than his sweat. Dean hunches and his knees tuck, fist pressing into his dick, already painfully confined by the seam on his jeans.

Sam's voice sounds stretched when he speaks, slowed and deepened. "The rest is all you, Dean. You're the main event."

***

"Which..." Distracted by the heated circle of Dean's palm on the back of his thigh, Sam's eyelids don't want to lift up, weighted by the gathering heaviness of the air. Dean's voice cracks like he's just hitting puberty and he stops to clear his throat, flushed and embarrassed. "I've never done this before, Sammy."

Sam doesn't even recognize the noise that comes from his throat when Dean admits that, precome splashing his belly. He reaches down and wraps his fingers around Dean's wrist. "It's okay, Dean. I trust you."

Dean shudders and his eyes flash down so that Sam can't see anything but the curling lashes and the pale freckled lids. "You shouldn't," Dean whispers. "Jesus, you shouldn't. Because I just want to fuck you with these so hard…watch you scream, watch you beg…" Dean's hand hovers over the line of dildoes before it fists and starts to pull away.

"Dean." Sam puts his legs down to either side of his brother's naked body and sits up. "Dean, it's _okay_." Another shift, forward and up so he's straddling Dean's knees. Dean's hands rest lightly on Sam's thighs and he marvels that even that touch, passive and hesitant burns through to where his blood races hot and fast at the bone. Sam kisses Dean, forcing his brother's mouth wide to his tongue. Dean's lips are warm and feel swollen against Sam's; Dean's breath blows into him like a firestorm, heating him through his core. Sam reaches out blindly and grabs one of the toys at random, pressing it into Dean's fingers. "I trust you," Sam says again, guiding Dean's hand around, behind him. "I've always trusted you, Dean."

***

Sam arches and his mouth opens on a gasp when Dean forces the dildo into him, through the resistant muscle. Sam's whole body is tight, taut and Dean stops immediately, just the head inside and the rest caught between Sam's clenched ass.

"Sam?"

"No," Sam breathes without opening his eyes. He nuzzles his cheek over Dean's temple, the soft hitching pant of his breath blurting against Dean's ear. "S'good. I want…more. Please, more."

Dean's nails scrape up the uneven plain of Sam's abs and he cranes a little to close his teeth over the peak of Sam's nipple. When Sam hiss-moans and drops down a little to give Dean better access, Dean thrusts the dildo up, deeper. Sam gets louder and his hips buck forward, cock knocking between their stomachs.

"God. Like that." Sam writhes against him, riding Dean's hand, riding the toy. "Fuck me like that, Dean." He puts his hands over Dean's shoulders and leans back, ass urging against Dean's hand. "Wanna watch you fuck me."

"Touch me," Dean answers roughly in return, jerking one of Sam's hands from his shoulder and wrapping it around his cock, red and aching, desperate for contact. "Touch us."

Sam nods jerkily, his voice hitching on a grunt and Dean fucks the dildo out until the head catches on Sam's rim and then in again, deeper than before. Sam opens his fingers, presses both their cocks together and strokes rough and fast, the way they like it.

"How does it feel?" They're rocking now, the bed squeaking louder and more violent protest under them. Dean feels like he can barely force the words out of his throat, strangled with the feel of Sam, practically vibrating with want, with pleasure. All Dean can smell, can taste, is them, coating his tongue, filling his sinuses.

"Good. Feels so good." Sam's arm loops around Dean's neck, his forehead resting on his own bicep.

"Better than me? Better than my cock inside you?"

Sam tenses, trembling, from head to toes and cries out sharply, pulsing over his fingers and Dean's cock. Dean keeps his hand moving, keeps sliding the toy deep within his brother's body and then out, shivering on the edge of his own climax but not quite there yet. He's going to be hurting Sam soon, he thinks. But he can't make himself stop.

***

"Different," Sam answers, when he _can_ again. His fingers are slack around his softened and Dean's still hard cocks, he rocks without resistance as Dean drives the dildo into him again and again. "It's just different." He mouths Dean's throat lazily, sleepy and sated. "You wanna fuck me now?"

"How can I compete with the Treasure Trove of Sammy's Toys?" The mild bitterness of Dean's tone blooms into full flower and Sam jerks, startled.

"Dean…" He sits up, drags his fingers through the feathery spikes of Dean's hair. "It's not like that."

"Yeah, well, I don't know what it's like, Sam." All at once, Dean dumps Sam off his lap. Sam flails, the dildo shifting inside him uncomfortably.

"Dean!" Sam untangles himself and lunges. His fingers brush across Dean's wrist and then Dean's gone, slamming the bathroom door after himself.

It's awkward and a little painful, pulling the dildo from inside him, even with Dean's generous application of lube. He leaves it where it falls and goes into the bathroom. Dean didn't bother to lock the door, one hand on the tile and the other jerking himself in hard, angry tugs. "Dean."

"Can't help I'm not as…technological as you, Sammy," Dean pants. "I'm just an old fashioned guy at heart."

"Dean…" He sidles up against Dean's back and knocks Dean's fingers away from his cock, replacing them with his own. "I wanted to be with you. I wanted to do it with _you_. That's why I waited. That's why I bought the damn things in the first place. For us."

Dean's back is an unwilling line but his breath catches and shakes when Sam's lips touch the warm, freckled skin of his shoulder and he thrusts into Sam's hand.

"I wanted to feel your hand on it, sliding it inside me. I wanted to watch your face while you made me fall apart. I wanted you to do that. To me. Because nobody feels like you, Dean. No one ever does."

Dean's hand grabs Sam's wrist, the fingernails digging deep into skin and muscle. He sounds choked as he comes, like he won't let the sound come up out of him, trying to hide it down deep.

"Come to bed," Sam says when it's over, and he's the only thing holding Dean upright.

"Yeah," Dean agrees hoarsely. "Okay." He turns slowly, carefully, Sam supporting him the whole way. The meeting of their mouths is barely a kiss so much as the sharing of breath, of space. "Maybe…" Dean licks his lip and tickles Sam's. "Maybe we can try a different one out. Later. When I can breathe again."

Sam grins. "Yeah. Or you could fuck me blind. I'm easy like that."

Dean grins back. "And God bless you for it, Sammy m'boy." 


End file.
